


Christmas Cheer

by lamardeuse



Category: Merlin (BBC) RPF
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-29
Updated: 2010-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamardeuse/pseuds/lamardeuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley gets Colin steamed up, long distance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hermette and inspired by a comment from chibirhm.

"Jesus," Colin breathes, leaning back against the closed loo door and passing a hand over his eyes, "I can't believe you texted me about blowing you _in front of my mother_."

"I'm sorry," Bradley says, pretending to sound contrite - Colin knows he's pretending because Bradley can fake contrition much better than that - "I feel horrible about that, I really do."

"Shut up," Colin says, his fingers already fumbling with his zip, taking out his half-hard cock, and shit, he can't believe he's doing this on _Christmas_ , after he practically dragged his nine year old cousin out of the loo with his trousers half buttoned. Given the number of small children in this house and the teaspoon-sized bladder capacity of most of them, he reckons he has approximately four and a half minutes before one of them starts pounding their pudding-encrusted fists on the door. "Okay, talk, talk, start talking," Colin says, taking a step forward to yank a couple of tissues from the box beside the sink before settling back against the door.

"Make up your mind, Col," Bradley drawls, and God, Colin hates that drawl normally, but it's making him harder, so he can't exactly complain about it now, "do you want me to shut up or do you want me to talk?"

"You know what I want," Colin breathes, tightening his grip on his cock and giving it an experimental stroke, ignoring the sharp jolt of guilt that follows. He's actually going to do it, actually going to wank in his gran's loo on Christmas Day, and it's all Bradley James's fault, the tosser.

"You want me to talk dirty to you, Colin? You want me to do that?"

Colin nods. "Just - just do it."

"You like my voice, don't you? Admit it."

Colin swallows; he's surprised his face hasn't caught fire by now. "The point is for you to talk, not me. Get on with it."

"Ooh, I like it when you get all commanding. Alright then, what shall I talk about? Shall I talk about what I'd like to do to you, or what I want you to do to me?"

Colin begins stroking himself, hard and ruthless. "Either," he pants. "I don't care."

"I'd like to be on my knees in front of you right now," Bradley murmurs, and Colin bites his tongue to keep from groaning. "You can see it, can't you? Me on my knees, worshiping your cock? God knows the image should be burned in your brain by now."

"Bradley," Colin whispers. He's never talked like this before, but this thing between them is still fairly new, and they've never been apart until Colin went home for Christmas. There was an odd scene at the airport – Bradley insisted on driving him to Heathrow, even though the train would have been much easier – and for a moment, Colin had thought about – he didn't know what he had thought, really. And by the time the aeroplane was in the air, he'd forgotten about it entirely.

Or at least that's what he told himself. Now, though, he has to admit he lay awake the first night he got home, thinking about the look in Bradley's eyes when he turned back and saw him standing there, frozen to the same spot where Colin had hugged him, too briefly in case someone had spotted Merlin hugging Arthur in the middle of bloody Terminal 1.

“Are you imagining me sucking you off, Col? Tell me you're thinking about it.” Bradley's voice is hoarse, sounds almost as desperate as Colin's feeling, and he takes his hand away from his mouth; there are tooth marks in the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah,” Colin says, jerking himself faster now, “wish you were here. With me.” He stops dead, heart pounding, and the line goes silent on the other end, because they both know they're not only talking about a quick blow job in a loo any longer.

“You just like my mouth,” Bradley says finally, the tone almost bitter, and Colin's heart plummets.

“No,” he says, and his hand loosens on his cock, “no, Bradley, that's not –”

There's a sharp banging on the door that almost makes Colin leap out of his skin. “Just a minute!” he yells, cursing softly under his breath as he stuffs his unsatisfied prick back into his jeans.

“Bradley, I have to –”

“Yeah, I know,” Bradley says, and he sounds resigned now. “Sorry I got you worked up.”

“You always do,” Colin confesses, “you always have.”

“Yeah?” Bradley sounds surprised.

Colin chuckles. “I was gone on you for – well, for a long time. Can't believe you didn't see it.”

“I'm the thick one, remember?”

“No, you're not,” Colin murmurs, “you're the smart one. You kissed me first.”

“I was drunk,” Bradley admits. “And shit-scared.”

“And brave,” Colin tells him, “and very, very dear.”

“So are golden retrievers.”

“Shut up, you,” Colin says, “'M trying to give you a bloody compliment.”

“Oh,” Bradley says, and Colin can picture him blushing, the colour high on his cheeks, “well then.”

 _I love you_ , Colin thinks, but he knows it's too soon to say it, and Bradley might not believe him. He needs Bradley to believe him.

“I'll see you at New Year's, yeah?” Colin says instead, closing his eyes. There's another rap at the door, but he ignores it.

“Yeah,” Bradley says. “Got a present for you right here.”

“Happy Christmas, Bradley.”

“You, too,” Bradley murmurs, and then he's gone.

Colin holds the phone close to his ear for another few moments, then pushes off the door and turns to open it.


End file.
